


Just Wanna Watch You in the Moonlight

by orphan_account



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: (just a little), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Creampie, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Fuckin in the woods, Just two bros, Kissing, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:13:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22288435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “We gotta do this more often.”“Mhmm.” Charles confirms. He realizes that they’re holding hands, and he smiles. He squeezes Arthur's hand. “Should probably bring something back before we leave, though.”He squeezes back. “Mighta scared off all the game for a few miles.”They both smile at that. “Probably,” Charles says.“Might take us a couple days to track somethin’ down.”“Mhmm,” Charles confirms.//In which Arthur and Charles are on a hunting trip, doing anything but hunting. Short n sweet, doused with my patented Plot B Gone™.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Charles Smith
Comments: 6
Kudos: 158





	Just Wanna Watch You in the Moonlight

“Fuck, fuck--  _ Charles _ ,  _ god _ \--” Arthur gasps, fingers scraping Charles’ back. He’s scrabbling for purchase, gasping,  _ writhing _ , bucking his hips with each thrust, and he’s so goddamn close he can just feel it roiling in his gut. The moans that slip from his swollen lips are breathy and desperate, wanton and uncaring of how pathetic he sounds. This far into the woods, with how long they’ve been at it, Arthur couldn’t stop himself if he tried. 

“ _ Arthur, Arthur, _ ” Charles whispers, punctuating each thrust with Arthur’s name on his lips, low in his throat and hot on his cheeks. His fist is wrapped tightly around Arthur’s cock, and he’s not going to let the man come, not yet. This time, he wants it to last, wants to make sure Arthur remembers it for a long,  _ long _ time. He presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “ _ Arthur _ ,” he says again, a prayer, an assuage, a shorthand in lieu of an “I love you”. The man below him is a goddamn  _ sight _ , fucked out of coherency and burning for release, if the throbbing cock in his hand is anything to go by. Arthur tries to buck into his fist again, whining.

“Shh, shh, I’ve got you,” Charles says as he slows down his thrusts. 

He’s all too aware of the bead of sweat running down his forehead, the sheen of it that makes his skin glow in the moonlight. He presses another kiss to the sharp stubble at Arthur’s cheek.

“ _ Charles _ ,” is all Arthur only has the wherewithal to whine, drawn out and desperate. 

Charles shushes him again, pulling out. The hand doesn’t leave his cock. Arthur bucks his hips, hypersensitive at the slick slide of him, the sudden sharp absence of Charles. He shudders when he clenches around nothing.

“Arthur, are you with me?” he tries to meet Arthur’s clouded gaze.

Arthur simply pants for a moment, coming back to himself if only to voice his annoyance. “ _ Christ _ , why’d you stop?” he groans. Charles smiles.

“Ain’t gonna let you come ‘till you fuck me, cowboy.”

Arthur groans at that, overwhelmed. “ _ Do I have to? _ ” he’s on the verge of saying, but the temptation to continue is just too much to resist; the image of Charles on his back is nearly enough to make him come right then and there. “Sure,” he simply breathes out. 

Charles offers him a hand that he gladly takes, and hoists himself to his knees. He presses a kiss to Charles’ lips before he has a chance to lie down, and the hunter huffs a laugh.

“You sop,” he teases, propping himself on his elbows.

“Only f’r you,” Arthur shoots him a dopey smile. He leans down to kiss him again, slow and tender, ignoring the throbbing of his own cock. As much as it pains him to admit, it can wait. 

But maybe Charles has had his fill of waiting for tonight. He spreads his legs and makes a show of the hand that trails down his stomach, tugging loosely at his slick cock. Arthur leans down, licks another passionate kiss into his mouth, and replaces Charles’ hand with his own. 

The man moans into Arthur’s mouth, breathy and hot, and Arthur responds by hastening his pace, jerking him off like it’s the most important goddamn thing in the world. The look of sheer concentration on his face makes Charles chuckle between breaths.

“What?” Arthur asks.

“I’m not-- You don’t have to focus so ha--  _ ahh! Goddammit _ ,” Arthur doesn’t let him finish his sentence when he twists  _ just so,  _ squeezes on the upstroke in the precise way he knows makes Charles  _ melt _ . 

“ _ What was that _ ?” Arthur teases.

“Fuck you,” Charles breathes without any bite, trying to keep his scowl from devolving into another wanton moan that Arthur seems so determined to wring out of him. 

“Thought we was doin’ it the other way ‘round this time?” Arthur says with that shit-eating grin on his face.

Charles only responds with a grunt.

And then, all too soon, Arthur pulls his hand away and distracts Charles with another kiss. The two take a moment just to breathe around each other, before Arthur reaches for the slick and lines up his cock with Charles’ entrance. 

“You good?” he asks.

Charles breathes deep once more, visibly relaxing, and nods his confirmation. Arthur gives his thigh a comforting squeeze before he penetrates that ring of muscle with little resistance. His hips stutter a moment at the friction, and he stops himself from looking down at Charles. He doesn’t want to come like this, not again, but  _ christ,  _ the things Charles does to him. He squeezes his eyes shut and slides himself in, letting out a weak moan when he bottoms out.

“ _ Charles _ ,” he breathes.

“Mmn?”

“Ain’t gonna last long.”

“Don’t worry about it, just-- Just breathe,” Charles says. Arthur whines again as Charles shifts around him, all wet heat and a  _ closeness  _ that’s got his head floating in the clouds. “C’mon, cowboy,” Charles whispers. “Wanna see you come in me.”

What’s left of Arthur’s self control crumbles at that, at Charles’ goddamn  _ voice _ , and he  _ keens _ , some animalistic noise he’d be deeply ashamed of making if he’d been any amount of coherent at this point. His hips snap into motion, and the feeling is electric. Thrust after thrust after  _ thrust _ , Arthur’s gripping one hand around the crook of Charles’ elbow, the other bunched in the sweat-soaked hair at the back of his scalp, and it feels like it’s the only thing keeping him on earth. 

Charles’ mouth falls open in a silent gasp when Arthur starts hitting his prostate, over and over and  _ over _ . With each slap of his balls against his skin, he’s growing closer and closer to release, that bundle of nerves just getting more sensitive at every pass of Arthur’s cockhead. 

And Arthur shifts above him, nudges his legs just a little further apart, his pelvis just a little more forward, and that’s it for Charles. His orgasm is building too fast,  _ too fast,  _ and Arthur’s thrusts are growing shallower with his own impending release, and Charles can tell with a pathetic amount of frustration that it’s not going to be enough. Arthur’s pace breaks, and he groans loud with his orgasm, hot and so fucking  _ slick  _ inside of him. Charles brings his knees up, holds Arthur close through it, watching every detail of his face pinch through a fog of his own arousal. 

“Come on, Arthur, come on,” he says, low in his throat. Arthur whines, eyelids fluttering, unseeing, as he thrusts into him one more time, breathing hard. 

He pulls out and meets Charles’ gaze, his spit-slicked lips parted and panting. Charles is still hard, almost desperate.

“Whaddyou-- what d’you want me to do?” Arthur slurs.

Charles doesn’t respond, just sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and takes Arthur’s right hand in his. He brings it down, down, past his cock, knuckles grazing his balls, and pushes Arthur’s fingertips to his gaping, leaking entrance. 

“Oh,” Arthur breathes.

And he brings his other hand away from its death grip on Charles’ arm, pushes his thighs apart again, and doesn’t hesitate to thumb his hole open, runs a finger up from his tailbone to gather up what slick and jism has leaked out. He feels Charles shiver and hold himself back from rolling his hips against Arthur’s thumb and index finger. 

“God, you’re beautiful,” Arthur whispers as he pushes the fluid back inside, and feels tingle of pride at the pearly white of his own semen that slicks up the way for his fingers. 

Charles breathes a heavy exhale, and Arthur knows it to be one of impatience. “Should just torture you like you been doin’ me all night,” he teases.

“Don’t you dare,” Charles warns.

Arthur chuckles. “Nah, not this time. Y’look too pretty when you come.” And he slips three fingers into Charles, wiggles them against the tight slick heat, and watches as Charles’ breath hitches in his chest. He slides his fingers in, out,  _ in out _ , again and again, curling them just so, and Charles’ back arches off the blankets, mouth gaping and moaning breathily at every motion. Arthur keeps at it, his eyes trained on Charles’ face, the planes of his body, admiring the sight, almost  _ worshipping.  _ The ebony black skin, shining and sweaty in what little light the moon provides, his chest heaving and his hips bucking in that fucking gorgeous, unhinged, desperate way he gets. 

Charles can feel his orgasm rapidly approaching again with every hard pass of Arthur’s knuckles, his fingertips against his prostate, deliciously  _ sharp,  _ slick inside of him. “Arthur,  _ Arthur, Arthur _ ,” he’s back to gasping, and it makes Arthur blush a deep red. “Yes,  _ Arthur, fuck-- right there, right there _ ,” Charles gasps, and  _ fuck,  _ there it is again, that precipice, that feeling of  _ hypersensitivity _ , his orgasm just a few thrusts of Arthurs fingers away-- and the night goes dark for a minute while he comes, shoots ropes onto his belly, and he has the sudden, inexplicably hilarious thought that he probably looks like a fish out of water. He doesn’t have the wherewithal to laugh at the moment, and the thought flickers out of existence in a split second as wave after wave of pleasure floods his brain, tenses every one of his muscles, and he can only groan while his body rolls its hips against Arthur’s goddamn fantastic fingers.

Arthur stops milking his prostate when Charles groans, and he goes limp below him. 

“Y’alright, darlin?” Arthur asks softly, and his voice seems a million miles away from Charles. He’d fallen painfully back to earth as soon as Arthur stopped moving against him.

“Peachy,” Charles breathes, and Arthur laughs, removes his fingers. Charles flinches, oversensitive, and Arthur soothes him with a hand against his outer thigh. 

“Toldja you was pretty when you came,” Arthur says softly as he grabs his discarded shirt to wipe off his hands.

“Mmmn.”

Arthur moves on to wiping the slick that’d leaked from Charles, the come that painted his belly. It’s silent for a long minute while he rifles through his bag, looking for something to drink. Apparently having found it, he crawls back onto the blanket and takes a swig.

“Wassat?” Charles slurs, and it hits him that he feels halfway to tipsy. Didn’t know Arthur could do that to him. The thought that he’d gotten his brains fucked almost out his ears settles light in his chest.

“Brandy.”

“Eugh,” Charles says, and reaches for the bottle.

Arthur chuckles and lets him have it; Charles downs a few good swallowfuls before handing it back. “Eugh,” he says again.

They both lie there for a while, naked and passing a bottle between them while the cool woods bustle quietly around them. 

“We gotta do this more often,” Arthur breaks the silence. 

“Mhmm.” Charles confirms. He realizes that they’re holding hands, and smiles. He squeezes Arthur’s hand. “Should probably bring something back before we leave, though.”

He squeezes back. “Mighta scared off all the game for a few miles.” 

They both smile at that. “Probably,” Charles says.

“Might take us a couple days to track somethin’ down.”

“Mhmm,” Charles confirms. They both smile at that, and Charles shuffles a little closer to Arthur. 

They lie like that for a good while before either of them drift off, just soaking in each others’ company in a post-orgasmic bliss. Arthur eventually reaches for a blanket to cover themselves with, and they fall asleep to the sound of each others’ breathing, and the creaking of the pines in the wind. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Can't believe I've never actually written a charthur oneshot before??? well shit here you go. yes I greatly enjoy making these characters desperate, no i will never change
> 
> also apologies for any mistakes i only combed over this a couple times
> 
> Comments and kudos, as always, greatly appreciated!!


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